Who Are You?

Chapter 1

I just wanted to get my education degree in peace. I didn't want my association with Ahmed Hassan to distract me.

I don't think I even have an association with Ahmed. In truth, I barely knew the guy, just his sister who would go out with mine and would spend hours on end with my sister. Pictures in magazines and his appearances in interviews on TV are the only way I know what he looks like, and even then I pretty much couldn't care less. 

So in Uni, I would give the girls fake numbers and I would give the guys random locations around the world so they would leave me alone.

If any of them came up to me later calling my bluff, I would just say he either changed his number again (to the girls) or that he was a billionaire, he has private forms of transportation and could go anywhere faster than everyone else (to the guys). They slowly stopped asking me during our senior year of Uni, and I finally found peace.

I still kept in touch with some close friends from Uni, one being Farah Syed. She and I had studied together for our education degrees. She teaches at the middle school near the elementary school I work at. She's actually Bilal's seventh-grade teacher, which works out perfectly for him because he says he's her favorite student, even though I tell her not to.

I love Farah, but I love her younger sister, Yasmeen, a pinch more.

She's Leena's age and they both go to the same college. Our families are tight-knit, so I've always considered her to be my younger sister, too. They're friends with Yusra Hassan, however, Yusra goes to Yale.

Yusra being friends with Leena works out perfectly for my mom. Our mother always makes extra snacks for Yusra and catches up with her whenever she comes over to our home to hang out with Leena. I think it's amazing how much time our mother puts in for Yusra, I wouldn't put it past her if she decides to move in with us one day.

She's really a sweet girl, and she knows she can come to me with anything. I would consider Yusra as my younger sister as well at this point.

She's told me a lot about what's going on at home, how her brother sometimes drinks alcohol when he's stressed out about his company, and how their father has a short temper and can drink excessively, and is gone most of the time on international business trips. During those times, she stays over at our house to have sleepovers with Leena.

There's a bit of traffic, so I place my car in park and wait patiently. The person driving the black Range Rover behind me, however, is far from patient. They keep relentlessly beeping at me, over and over again.

The windshield is tinted, so I can't identify the driver, but I grit my teeth and keep looking in my rearview anyway. I shouldn't let them bother me.

After a minute or two more of continuous beeping, I reach my limit.

Screw being the bigger person.

I open my door and stand beside my car, looking ahead to see that the line was not moving at all, but a police officer had just arrived to sort out the situation. It looked like a car was stuck in a ditch just a couple of meters down. 

I looked behind me to the black Range Rover that was still beeping at me, and walk up to the car. I approach the driver's side and knock on the tinted window, absolutely done with this driver.

They rolled down the window, and I was face-to-face with a guy wearing sunglasses and a suit.

Okay, James Bond much?

But wait, he looks vaguely familiar. But I couldn't possibly know him, right?

I scan his face and conclude he was around my age. But that's all I can get from looking at him.